"I have felt cats rubbing their faces against mine and touching my cheek with claws carefully sheathe..." — James Herriot

They can't find my house now because I keep it very quiet where I live.

There was no last animal I treated. When young farm lads started to help me over the gate into a field or a pigpen, to make sure the old fellow wouldn't fall, I started to consider retiring.

I became a connoisseur of that nasty thud a manuscript makes when it comes through the letter box.

I will write another book if I feel like it.